


All Around the World or the Myth of Fingerprints

by DemonicSymphony



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom John, M/M, Pining, Pre-Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:51:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicSymphony/pseuds/DemonicSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glance at John Watson and James Sholto's relationship over the years from Afghanistan to John's wedding...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Around the World or the Myth of Fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiltedsyllogism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiltedsyllogism/gifts).



> The lyrics really spoke to me from Sholto's point of view, learning to live by himself and take life as it is... To accept John in whatever capacity after they were both so damaged by the war.
> 
> (For Syll for giving me the chance and for being patient with me while I was traveling!)

_Over the mountain_  
 _Down in the valley_  
 _Lives a former talk-show host_  
 _Everybody knows his name_  
 _He says, “There’s no doubt about it_  
 _It was the myth of fingerprints_  
 _I’ve seen them all and, man,_  
 _They’re all the same”_

James Sholto stood outside his tent drinking water from his canteen as he looked around the camp. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he ran a hand through his short cropped sandy hair. He hummed to himself as he watched the men set up. His captain came to a stop beside him, working in his vest, dog tags laying against the damp cloth.

“Captain Watson.”

“Major Sholto, Sir…”

“Finish camp and we’ll settle in for the night.” Sholto caught the hint of smile playing over John Watson’s lips.

“Yes, sir.”

Sholto watched Watson’s compact frame wave through the men and equipment, barking orders as the camp was set up. Soon men were settling in, heating up ready meals and talking as a few took up positions to watch camp. Lots of ribbing and good natured fussing back and forth until Sholto ordered them to bed.

“Early march, men…” 

As he shrugged out of his over shirt in the tent, Watson appeared.

“Evening, sir.”

With a small smile, James drew John to him. John wrapped his arms around James’ neck, going to his toes as James bent to kiss him. They stayed like that, wrapped in one another’s arms, kisses growing more heated as they stripped one another of their fatigues, laughing when John grew tangled in his boots.

James eased John down to the sleeping bags and kissed him again, humming as John’s body arched under his. He curled his hand around John’s hip as he rocked them together. They groaned together, the sound lost in kisses as he nipped and kissed John over and over again until they were both panting. 

John produced a bottle of oil from somewhere over his head and James grinned down to him before stealing one more kiss. He pushed up, kneeling between John’s legs as he slicked his fingers. As James slowly pressed a finger in John, John captured his lower lip between his lip, biting back the groan. With a smirk, James leaned forward, capturing John’s lips again, kissing him as he worked him open, keeping all the sounds John made for himself.

When John was worked open, flushed and panting below him James took a moment to look over him, drinking in the sight of the skin, tanned in some places, pale in others where he protected it from the harsh Afghanistan sun. His fingers ran over the pale chest beneath him, pinching dark pink nipples until John groaned, just shy of too loud.

“Fuck, James… _Sir_. Please.”

James sucked in a sharp breath and slicked himself, working his hand over his cock as he watched John whimper and moan beneath him. “Christ, John… if you could see yourself.”

John grinned and licked over his lower lip as he watched James, hand sliding down his body to wrap around his own cock, giving slow, teasing strokes. He drew soft whimpers from himself as he bucked into his hand on a perfect stroke.

A low growl was ripped from James as he batted John’s hand away from himself and pressed forward, lining up. He watched John’s head tilt back, breath escaping him in pleading pants as he slid into him, movements slow, gentle. His own eyes dropped shut for a moment as he gave them time to adjust. 

“Fuck.” John breathed out. “Move, James. Fucking move.”

James fell forward on his arms, kissing John hard, his mouth pulled up in a smile. He rocked his hips forward as John wrapped his legs around James’ waist.

They shared kisses, capturing each others’ moans as James fucked John, their bodies meeting in hard thrusts. The sound of skin sliding against one another and muffled moans and grunts filling the tent. James bit and nipped along Johns neck, rocking into him harder, enjoying the little keens and gasps he drew from John.

John gripped the back of James’s neck as their breathing quickened. He groaned as James wrapped a hand around his cock. 

“James.” John gasped as he arched into the hand around him.

James sped up as John groaned beneath him, both of them shuddering. He worked John’s cock faster. His thumb swiped over the head just as he knew John liked, making him buck again

“Oh god, oh fuck, James… James please.” John kissed him hard as his hips stuttered.

Groaning, James thrust hard, fucking John roughly against the sleeping bag until John was crying out against his mouth as he came. James continued his thrusts, working John through his orgasm and chasing his own. He buried his face in John’s neck, muffling his cry as he came, body shuddering against John’s.

A few minutes later he eased out of John and collapsed beside him on the sleeping bag, drawing him close. 

John smiled against James’s neck and curled his fingers James’ dog tags. “Thank you, James,” he murmured as they clung to one another in the dark.

James smiled as he stroked his thumb over John’s cheek. “Mm, no, thank you. Rest now… we really do have to get up early.”

The feel of John’s smile against his neck, and the whispered ‘Yes, sir’ made his heart soar.

Less than twelve hours later as John Watson lay bleeding in the sand, he felt his heart shatter.

\---

After John went home, James received a few letters. They came in fits and spurts, sometimes only a sentence or two.

But the Skype call was the worst. The bags under John’s eyes, the dark circles and the lines in his face that hadn’t been there three months ago when James had him in his arms. It was stilted, bitter on John’s end, mournful on James’, neither of them knowing what to say until James had to go.

“I’ll come home and see you when I have leave…” James murmured in the last few moments he had at the computer.

John looked pained and shifted uncomfortably. “I- my shoulder’s not- and my leg, it’s not like we could…”

“That’s not-” James cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to you again before my leave, John. You take care of yourself.”

“Sure, James, yeah… yeah, alright.”

“I’ve got to go…” James touched the screen without thinking and John gave a tight smile.

“Yeah, alright. Be careful out there.”

The call disconnected and James dragged himself out of the tent, back into the sun.

\---

Sherlock came home to find Baker Street empty, a note penned and left on the kitchen table.

_Out, don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Went to see a friend.  
John_

Shrugging, Sherlock shoved the body parts into the fridge without giving anymore thought to it.

Already long gone, John knocked on the door nervously, shifting from side to side. The door was opened by a nurse who looked a bit harried. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sholto doesn’t allow visitors.”

“Major.” John stated, voice firm.

“Pardon?”

“Major Sholto. He deserves that much respect.” John nodded as he looked at her, the bob of his head sharp. “Please tell him Captain John Watson is here.”

She left him standing on the front steps and disappeared into the house again.

John stood at parade rest as he waited. A moment later the door opened and she gestured him in. 

“First door to your right. He’s not in a particularly good mood today.”

With a small nod of appreciation, John moved to the door, gave a sharp rap, and let himself in. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light. When they did adjust, John found James sitting at the window, staring outside.

“Hello, Captain Watson.”

John cleared his throat. “There was a time we were past such formalities in private.”

James turned his head, revealing the freshly healed burns over his face. “And would you still call me James now… in the heat of the moment?”

With a soft intake of breath, John crossed the room and wrapped a hand around one of James’. “You know I would, James.”

A small, sad smile graced James’ lips. “And what of Sherlock?”

John looked surprised as James watched, emotions flitting across his face one after another until John confessed almost silently. “I don’t know.”

“He’s changed you… for the better I think.” 

A small smile crept onto John’s face. “Yeah- yeah I think he has.”

James watched John for a moment before murmuring, “Let’s have tea and hear about him then…”

\---

When James got the news of Sherlock’s jump… he called John. 

John quietly thanked him for calling and promised to be in touch.

James couldn’t help but think it was like John being invalided home all over again.

\---

James sat, listening to Sherlock plead with him to let them attend to him. He took a breath and moved to the door. When he opened it, John was waiting.

“I believe I am in need of medical attention.”

John nodded, “I believe I am your doctor.”

And John always would be… He might not belong to James like he had imagined John might when they both came home from the war. But John was still the one person James knew would never let him down.

_Over the mountain_  
 _Down in the valley_  
 _Lives a former talk-show host_  
 _And far and wide his name was known_  
 _He said, “There’s no doubt about it_  
 _It was the myth of fingerprints_  
 _That’s why we must learn to live alone”_


End file.
